


and the trumpets they go

by weatheredlaw



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>is it weird that i hear trumpets when you're turning me on?</i>
</p><p>or: drabbles for cassandra and bull</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. countdown (modern au)

**Author's Note:**

> this began as a new years drabble collection, but now it's just a general drabble collection. hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person A and B go separately to a New Year’s Party, and end up standing next to each other during the countdown to midnight.

“Fifteen minutes to go.”

“You have mentioned this.”

Dorian cranes his neck, and Cassandra’s nostrils _flare._ “You haven’t told me who you’re going to kiss.”

“No one,” she says coolly.

“Oh, come now.” He takes a long drink from his cup. “You have to kiss _someone._ It’s New Year’s _Eve_! It would be a waste if you didn’t.”

“Yes. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Dorian sighs. “I’m not pestering you for _my_ benefit. I’m doing it—” Someone turns the volume up on the television. The timer in the corner for the ball-drop in Val Royeaux is ticking down. Cassandra grows increasingly annoyed.

Dorian sighs. “Right. I can see there’ll be no convincing you. Go stand in a corner or something, then. Avoid all contact.”

“Just because I’m standing—”

“What’s this about avoiding a New Year’s kiss?” Someone steps rather close to her. Cassandra hides her face behind her cup.

“Bull! Just the Qunari I wanted to see. Can’t you talk Cassandra into kissing _someone_ in the next ten minutes? She’s being a pill about it.” He turns to go and find Maxwell, leaving her stranded in a sea of people, alone with Bull.

“You don’t have to kiss anyone,” he says quietly.

“I am well aware of that,” she snaps. “There is _tradition_ , and then there is something Dorian invented for his own amusement.”

Bull chuckles, beer hanging loosely in his hand. “I wouldn’t give Dorian all the credit, though he would appreciate it, I’m sure.” Cassandra nods. “I mean you’ve got eight minutes to make up your mind.”

“I already _did that_ ,” she insists.

“True, true.” Bull takes a drink. “No one likes to be forced into a kiss. You wanna go outside? Get away from all the smooching?”

“You won’t be kissing someone at midnight?”

Bull shakes his head. “Nah. No one here I really care about. I like to care about the person I kiss.” He pauses. “They, uh, they should also _want_ to kiss. Consent is caring, something like that.” He grabs another beer from the cooler by the slider door leading into the backyard. Cullen’s stoking the firepit, swearing each time the flame goes out.

“Waste of time to build this.”

Bull leans down. “Need help?”

“ _Yes._ I’ve got to go back inside. Stupid midnight kiss or something—” Bull raises an eyebrow and Cassandra. “Can you get it going? Varric’s insisting on ghost stories by the fire. It’s bloody _freezing_ out here,” he mutters, and heads back inside.

Cassandra glances around, and has to agree. Icicles are still hanging from the tree, though most of the snow is now slush.

Bull grunts and the fire begins crackling.

“You will have to tell him it took much longer.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you lie to Cullen for me.” Bull sighs and sits on one of the stone benches around the pit, gesturing for Cassandra to join him. “Five minutes to midnight. It was a good year.”

“Not terrible,” Cassandra agrees.

“That’s your year-end measurement? _Not terrible._ I’d hate to see what a _bad_ year sounds like.”

“I have had them,” she says quietly. “This one could not compare.”

“Was it _good_ , at least.”

She nods. “I was happy. I _am_ happy. I think that is the hallmark of a decent year.”

“Well.” Bull finishes off his first beer, easily popping the cap of the second. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

The door slides open and Dorian shouts: “ _Three minutes, Cassandra!_ ”

“ _Ugh._ ”

“Is it that you don’t _want_ to kiss someone, or there’s just no one to kiss?”

Cassandra glances up at him, aware of the intensity of his gaze, how clear and cool his eyes are on her own. He looks ridiculous in his coat and scarf – she knows Qunari run hot, that the cold hardly bothers them. But still, here he is, participating in a dozen rituals at once belonging to a group of people who shouldn’t care about –

And yet.

“There…are someone’s to kiss,” she says carefully. “But it is the matter of…securing their consent.”

He laughs. “Hey. You know all you have to do is ask.”

“ _Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight! Twenty-seven!_ ”

Cassandra clenches her fists. “Less than thirty seconds.”

“Guess you better find one of them someone’s.”

“I—”

“ _Fifteen! Fourteen! Thirteen!_ ”

Cassandra straightens. “Will you kiss me at midnight?” she asks.

Bull sets down his beer, reaching out to uncurl her fingers, taking her hands in his own.

“It’d be a damn honor,” he says.

“ _Four! Three! Two! One!_ ”

Across town, fireworks burst and pop in the air – but they are no match for the flame at their feet, the lightshow in their hands –

The trite-but-true feeling of fireworks in her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person A makes a New Year’s Resolution–but Person B makes it difficult for them to keep it.

“You can’t do it.”

“I can.”

“No, Varric’s right. You’re incapable of restraint.” Cullen uncrosses his legs, mashing the buttons of his controller. “ _Damn, damn, damn!_ ”

“Stop asking to play this,” Bull says, tossing his own onto the coffee table. “And I _can._ Just because you’ve never seen it—”

Dorian snorts. “Please. You’re an insatiable flirt and you wouldn’t be able to stop for a _week._ ”

“I can stop for a week, but I’ll do you one even better.” Bull stands and grins. “One month.”

“ _Horseshit_ ,” Varric says. “I’ll bet _coin_ that you can’t.”

“How much?”

Dorian whistles. “ _Now_ we’re talking.”

 

* * *

 

Varric bets Bull a hundred in coin that he can’t go a month without flirting a woman into bed.

As his roommate, Cullen promises to be honest and forthcoming about his progress.

And it’s all fine and good –

Until the Nevarran moves in across the hall. After that, it all goes to shit.

 

* * *

 

 _Just pretend she isn’t there. For four weeks. It’s only thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours._ He looks at his watch. _Seven hundred and eighteen, actually._

Their New Year’s party goes off without a hitch. Bull doesn’t invite the Nevarran woman from across the hall, and Cullen only asks about her once. He hides his face behind a mug instead of answering, which seems to set the records pretty straight.

“She _is_ pretty, in a rather severe sort of way. I can see why you fancy her.”

“Stupid word. I don’t fancy anyone. And I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come now.” Cullen leans against the kitchen counter. “You’ve been staring at her in the elevator all week. She’s not your type, but she’s certainly something else.”

Bull nods, clinical, precise. “Exactly. Not my type. Not a problem.”

Cullen snorts. “You’re going to lose all that money, it’s so sad.”

“I’m _not_ going to lose any money because I haven’t even spoken to her.” He pauses. “And I don’t intend to.”

Cullen shrugs. “It’s your bet.”

“Exactly. I have everything under control.”

“Very important with you.”

“Yes,” he says. “Very.”

 

* * *

 

A week and a half into the bet, Bull thinks she might have gone on vacation. He doesn’t see her for a few days, and he’s glad of it, thankful that he can give his thoughts a rest. She’s…beautiful, for sure. But there’s something _else_ about her. Something he can’t quite place.

He’s certain, though, that he’s cured of it all when he doesn’t see her for more than a fourth day in a row when she shows up outside his apartment – cold, wet, and dressed to the nines.

“ _Bull!_ Someone at the door for you,” Cullen calls, and the Qunari stops dead in his tracks.

“Oh—” The woman shakes her head. “N-no, I didn’t ask specifically—”

“Nonsense. He’s far more equipped to handle this than me. I don’t know a thing _about_ breaking into your own house.”

 Bull practically growls as Cullen breezes past him, but puts on a smile for her. “You’re locked out.”

“Oh, it’s silly,” she says, shaking her head. “I cannot believe I even—”

“Cullen’s full of shit. He forgets his keys pretty much every week.”

Cullen sticks his head out of his room. “It’s true.”

“So you…can help me?”

“Sure thing.” Bull goes into the kitchen and digs around for his lockpicking kit before walking across the hall and kneeling in front of the door. “Don’t be alarmed.”

“You can just _do that?_ ”

“Sure.”

“But—”

“I said I could do it,” says. “Didn’t say it wasn’t hard.”

“Oh. I…alright.” She nods and pulls her soaked sweater tighter around her. Bull looks over his shoulder.

“Go ask Cullen for a blanket. You’re shivering.”

“I am fine.”

“ _Go ask Cullen for a blanket_ ,” he says, and turns back to the door.

She makes a little noise and does as she’s told, grumbling all the time.

It takes fifteen minutes of finagling and teasing, but finally the locks _clicks_ and the door swings open.

You’d expect after a person moved in barely two weeks ago that boxes and bags might still litter the landscape – but everything seems to have a place, and the floor and counters are impeccable.

“Thank you,” she says quickly, handing him the blanket. “I truly appreciate it.”

“Where are your keys?”

Her cheeks flush. “It’s…a long story.”

“Right. Well, goodnight—”

“Wait!” She reaches out and grabs his shoulder. Bull almost flinches, but her grip is light, barely a grip at all. “I…thank you. Again. I owe you a favor, certainly. Perhaps I could cook for you? Or bring you something—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But I could do anything—”

“Really not needed, goodnight—”

She groans. “You could _at least_ tell me your name!” She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I am Cassandra. I’m your neighbor and I was a _fool_ tonight. You saved me from the humiliation of returning to the source of my shame twice in one night, and now you won’t even let me know who you are.”

He sighs. “I’m…Bull. Iron Bull. That’s Cullen, looking smug over there.”

“Hello.”

Cassandra nods. “Of course.” She reaches out her hand. “Then we have made our proper introductions.”

Bull swallows, gives her hand a quick shake, and turns to go back inside.

“Goodnight,” Cullen calls from the other side of the hall.

“Oh, _goodni_ —”

Bull slams the door. Cullen snickers.

 

* * *

 

“A weakness appears,” Varric says sagely.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about _that_ anymore.” Cullen laughs and leans forward. “He shut the door in her face last night.”

“Why were you talking to her?”

Bull grunts. “She got locked out. _This_ one is useless in that respect.”

“True,” Varric admits. “Was it flirting, Cullen?”

“Nah. We all made friends, and she’s nice enough. Very Nevarran.”

“So she wears black and worships the dead?” Dorian asks.

“Hmm? Is that what they do?”

“Some of them.”

“Oh, then no. She isn’t like that at all. ‘Least I don’t think so.”

Bull stands. “I’m getting a beer,” he says loudly.

Varric chuckles. “You won’t make it.”

“Says you.”

 

* * *

 

Bull leans against the wall of mailboxes, sorting through the post with a yawn. He closes the door with a snap and someone makes a noise next to him. Cassandra.

“Excellent,” she says. “Now you have two doors to close in my face.”

Bull sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he says.

“No, it’s quite alright. I know when I’ve worn out my welcome.”

“It’s…really not that.”

“No?” She looks up at him. “What is it, then? Am I so repulsive a neighbor that you regret my arrival? Did I offend you the other night? Was my need too great?”

“Please, don’t do this.”

She slams her own box shut and locks it. “ _You_ don’t even know me. _You_ were rude. _You_ and your roommate are _insolent_ and _catty_ and—”

Bull snorts. “Now it’s _you_ who doesn’t know anyone.”

“Then why slam the door in my face? Why _ignore_ me every time I walk by? I am your neighbor, am I not?”

“Wouldn’t you prefer it be that way?”

“No.” She stuff her mail in her purse and tightens the grip on her keys. “I wouldn’t,” she says, and turns to march toward the elevator.

Bull groans. “ _Wait._ ” He jogs after her and holds the door, stepping in next to her. “It’s not you,” he says, watching the doors slide close. “It’s…something stupid.”

“It usually is with men.”

“You’re not wrong,” he mutters. “Look, I…made this bet. It’s a ridiculous one.”

“Sounds like it.”

“I bet that…fuck, it’s sounds pathetic in my head.”

“It probably is then.”

He scowls. “Don’t you have something that you do? That you have a hard time _not_ doing?”

“Some bad habit?” He nods. “I suppose.”

“Right. Well I’ve got one.”

Cassandra snorts. “What, is it talking to people?”

“…Sort of.”

The doors slide open and she steps out, pausing at the end of the hall. “Oh. It’s…it’s not people, is it?”

“Actually, it is.”

She smiles. “You’re a flirt.”

“Notoriously.”

“No wonder you looked like you were _suffocating_ ,” she says, amused. “How much do you stand to lose then, if you flirt with me? Or get caught, at least.”

“A hundred.”

“A _hundred._ That’s quite impressive.”

“Right. So now you know, and now, perhaps, you’ll be of some assistance.”

Cassandra pauses by her door, gripping her keys. She smiles. “Of course.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. It would be wrong to…tease. Especially when you’re trying so… _hard._ ” She turns, completely flush with his chest.

Bull stops breathing. Entirely.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Is it forward?”

“Knock it off.”

“I’ve seen you looking.”

“Yeah?” He steps back. “I’ve seen you looking, too.”

“And why shouldn’t I? Afterall, I am not the one trying to prevent something completely natural from happening between us.”

“A month,” he says hoarsely. “That’s all I need. Less than that, now. Just two weeks.”

“That’s an _awfully_ long time for me to wait.”

Bull shakes his head. “The satisfaction of proving everyone wrong. Making everyone else look like a fool.”

“Is that what it is? Foolish?”

Bull winces. “It feels that way now. Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Is that a flirtation?”

“It’s a fucking _fact._ ”

Cassandra sighs, reaching to slide her key into the lock. “I suppose I can wait a couple of weeks. Will you be winning the hundred on your own then, if the success is yours?”

“I will.”

She smiles. “Good. Then you can take me somewhere nice for dinner, can’t you?” She opens the door and steps inside. “I’ll see you later, I’m sure.”

“Right.”

“Have a good evening, Bull.” She turns and closes the door behind her.

Inside his own apartment, Bull rushes to get into a cold shower, groaning as the water hits him.

It’s going to be a _long_ two weeks.


	3. toying with my emotions (modern au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull loves dragons, and Cassandra. The two aren't mutually exclusive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> largely sfw - reference to mild sex and bondage

Bull finds children’s toys insulting to their target demographic. He’s already gotten in trouble once because he leaned against what appeared to be a sturdy display and sent a dozen nug plushies sliding along the slick tiled floor. Cassandra snorts, taking his hand and pulling him down an aisle as they search for a last minute gift, an hour before her nephew’s birthday.

“I told you to buy something a week ago.”

“I was not thinking of it a week ago.” She digs through a bin of knock-off toys and unearths a boxed action figure. “Will this do, you think?”

“Sure.”

“ _Ugh_ , if you do not care go wait at the café, I won’t be long.”

“I care,” he insists, because he certainly _does._ He wants to be involved in Cassandra’s life, and he wants her family to like and enjoy him. He wants to participate, because she’s the first human woman he’s been with for longer than five months, the first with an extended family that actually _respects_ him –

So, yeah. He wants her to know he cares.

“It looks like…a good time,” he tries. She frowns, glancing at the toy before nodding and tucking it under her arm.

“It does,” she agrees, but doesn’t leave the store right away.

“ _Cass._ ”

“I’m looking for something. I saw it when we came inside.” She peers down aisle after aisle, and Bull takes the chance to trail a ways behind her, admiring the view until she finds what she’s looking for. “Go to the café,” she says.

“What?”

“Just go!” she insists, giving him a push toward the door. “I will join you.” She pushes herself up on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “Go on.”

Bull frowns, but gives her ass a decent slap for good measure, before doing as he’s told.

 

* * *

 

There’s not much in this world that looks as good as Cassandra tied to her own bed. Her arms are strong – Bull knows she could get out of the knots if she really wanted – and her body flexes beautifully under his hands. She responds to his words and touches so elegantly, her voice smooth and rich with every cry or moan. He’s had excellent lovers, had beautiful women and men, but she is largely unique in a way that he hasn’t quite figured out. Not yet.

After, he undoes the silk around her wrists and kisses her neck. “That was good, _kadan._ ”

“It was, wasn’t it?” She shifts and stands, moving around the room. “I have something.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” She digs through a brown bag from the toy store, pulling out something he can’t quite see. Purple, in the light.

“What…is that?”

“Something I bought for you.” He raises a brow. “Not like _that_ ,” she mutters. “Well, not quite, anyhow.” She ducks her head and, when she straightens back up, she’s wearing it.

A hat, shaped like a dragon.

“Oh.”

She settles on the end of the bed, inspecting the parts of it that trail over her shoulder. “It is cute, don’t you agree?”

“Makes _you_ look cute,” he says, and pulls her in.

“I know how _much_ you love dragons,” she says, straddling his waist. “And I know how much you love me.”

“I don’t say it enough.”

Cassandra leans down and kisses him. “You have shown me quite well.”

“I could show you again.”

“And again?” she asks, gasping when he reaches up between her legs.

“And again,” he murmurs.


End file.
